Messa de Requiem
by Drusilla2
Summary: 1860. The Resurrection of Drusilla.


**Title**: Messa de Requiem

**Author**: Drusilla -- spikes_pet@canada.com

**Website**: Sweet Hereafter -- http://www.cityofhellville.com/sweet

**Summary**: The resurrection of Drusilla.

**Rating**: PG? No idea.

**Pairing**: Drusilla/Angelus only loosely.

**Disclaimers**: I'm only toying with the characters. They belong to Joss Whedon and CO.

  


~*~

**MESSA DE REQUIEM**

~*~

  
My rising was not something so easily described in a handful of words. 

The sun was fading slowly when I woke from my death-sleep. I did not see it: rather, I felt its waning rays of precious light like leeches that threatened to eat my skin away. The world screamed at me like wraiths. Black ghosts of prayer and memory. 

_ And there was darkness upon the surface of the watery deep..._

They lie when they say that one's body is simply possessed by a demonic power in vampiric birth-- atleast, this is what I knew then, what knowledge struck me as I lay like stone beneath the wicked earth. Did they lie to make their Slayers believe? Did they lie to make the task so dangerously simple in mortal minds? I was as much the girl then as I had always been-- that is the one thing I could comprehend. The rest fell like autumn leaves about me.

Power consumed me. I felt it in my bones like a worm. I squirmed, gasping heavily in panic and in terror at the walls surrounding me, all sharp and black. I had no need for breath, but I did not know it then. I clawed at the wood with glassy nails until I could push myself upwards and out.

The pain in my head was terrible, but I could not tear it out. I felt the light fall away from the world and the earth filled my eyes and my dress, but I did not care. 

_ And the moon and the stars for combined dominion by night..._

When the night air surrounded me at last, the blood rushed forth so that I shivered in horror and ecstasy. The sensation was new to me, sacred and blasphemous, surging desperately but never to be felt again. I wept when it was gone, wept for its loss. When we feed we search for that, understand. We enjoy killing only as a sport: it is feeding that seduces us, but the rush of blood is never the same. The rise, and then it's lost forever. Buried too deep beneath insects and treachery.

There was some illness in my heart, as though it had been torn apart by the wolves, cleaved into two bleeding halves for a butcher's stone. My own laughter filled my ears, drowning me, pulling me into the Inferno that became my world. I stumbled in my best shoes. With a glance I saw the greenery beneath my feet disturbed as if some wild animal had lain there.

That wild animal was me.

_ This is at last bone of my bones  
And flesh of my flesh..._

~*~

They came for me later. I felt the sharpness of their steps against the stone of my floor. I was weeping still, the hunger gnawing at me, the terror much too intense to be real.

I'd returned to the place that was my home. Nobody lived there because everybody was dead. I'd crept through the rooms, thinking all the while, it's not true, it never happened, I'll open the next door and they'll all be there... sitting... laughing... existing. 

I opened all the doors.

_Terrors from you yourself have brought me to silence..._

Then the Golden Lady found me as a smudge of dark hair against the whiteness draped across the house. She was dressed richly, her skirts filling the room, her hair beautifully coiffed. She was no peasant in an lady's clothes-- her poise was grand, her expression was grand, and her features delicate and aristocratic. When she spoke her voice was honey, and when she looked her eyes were ice.

I looked down at myself absent-mindedly. My dress was thin and white, attire for the dead. But the lace was intricate, the patterns fashionable, and my shoes were silk although my hair was soaked with blood. I touched it and brought my fingers to my lips, allowing the wetness pool onto my tongue and I near swooned.

Then my teeth met each other with a clang and suddenly I realized that she'd struck me. I didn't feel the pain in the sense of the word: intead, the sensation filled me with a strange horror and anguish. My skin tingled where her fingers had left their mark. It was not physical pain then, but something far deeper, as though she'd reached and twisted my soul.

"Stupid girl," she said, her eyebrows leaning towards her the center of her face, the human expression of disgust. "You haven't got a soul." She glared at me for a moment. "Haven't you fed yet?"

The question meant nothing to me so I walked dazedly away from her. Something caught my eye-- a splash of red beneath the sheets. I gave it a tug, my fingers awkward and childish, then bent over to pick up the treasure. I smiled. "Miss Edith," I giggled. She was Miss Edith the Third, but she didn't like to be reminded of that. I patted her on the head fondly, and then pulled out her hair.

The Golden Lady was muttering behind me, "Trust Angelus," and she threw up her hands in exasperation.

Miss Edith looked at me. Her head was a little broken at the scalp in some parts, and in other spots, bits of her hair stuck up at odd angles.

_Their own sword will enter into their heart,  
And their own bows will be broken..._

I decided the Lady was a serpent. She moved with a lion's grace but with the lazy air of a snake. I did not care much for her, except to admire the loveliness in the lines of her face.

He came then and saved me from her. Wrapping his arm around me, he carried me away, kissing me on the face like he would a lover. I was not his lover, but he set me down gently and I said, "Papa." And he smiled, even though he was not my father. I frowned. "Daddy?" He took my face and brought his mouth to mine, and it didn't seem so wrong as it did before.

The Lady followed behind us, half amused and half scowling. "Well, Angelus, haven't we stayed long enough?" She said this with venom. Her soft features were daggers.

"Hmm," he sighed, as he kissed my hair. "Yes."

I looked at them hesitantly and asked, in a very small voice, "Where are you going?"

**We** were going to see the world, he told me, smirking and tugging at my wrist. The three of us. Wouldn't that be delightful?

"Oh, yes." I replied politely, although I was rather unclear about why I was going with them. "Can't I bring Miss Edith?"

The Lady looked disgusted. "The doll?" She spat. I looked at my toes. There were drops of blood on those too, and I was going to lean over to look at them when Angelus took me by the waist and brought me out the door. 

"You'll have plenty of dolls with us," he promised, laughing. "We'll buy you whatever you'd like."

"Oh." I said softly, looking dreamily to the stars. They smiled at me, yellow and white and peach. I thought it was peach, blinking like tiny eyes. He took my hand, but I wasn't paying attention. The sun was lost forever but the world was mine.

  


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END 


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